


Gauntlet

by Dolevalan



Category: Jekyll (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-24
Updated: 2007-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1624256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolevalan/pseuds/Dolevalan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyde sends Dr. Jackman a message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gauntlet

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed your Yuletide Treat! I loved this series a lot, and I enjoyed getting to fic it.
> 
> Written for Loz

 

 

The tape recorder was broken. Try as he would to tell himself that it might have broken on its own, Jackman could not make himself swallow the feeble lie. It was a lie, too clearly a lie. 

There was no tape inside the broken machine.

He told himself not to panic. There was no need to jump to any conclusions. He would get up, brush his teeth, and...

He noticed a dark sort of something beneath his nails. He slammed the door on the line of thought speculating as to what it was.

At least he was in the flat. That was something. Hyde so often left him helter skelter wherever he got tired. And though Jackman was sore, the flat was not a shambles. Again, a welcome surprise. _That's it, Jackman,_ he thought, bitterly. _Keep listing the positives._

The fact was, he had broken the tape recorder. That meant Hyde was angry. He was always angry, but it meant he was angry at Jackman. And that could never mean anything good.

It was late morning, a Saturday. Claire would, once again, be quietly furious, glaring at him over the boys' heads. But he hadn't missed work, and the episode had been mainly...

Jackman's mental inventory trailed off as he walked into the half-kitchen. There was, on the counter, a small, white take-out box. Jackman almost never brought leftovers home, and he knew, with certainty, that this box had not been his.

He wasn't sure how many minutes he stood, looking at it. As if he expected it to do something. Go off, or speak, perhaps. It did nothing. It sat there, like a box of food is wont to do. 

Finally, what seemed like ages later, Jackman made himself approach. There was a note, near-illegible in Hyde's scrawl. As best he could tell, it read:

_Daddy,_

_I hope you feel just as full when you read this as I did tonight._

Jackman trembled a bit. If Hyde had eaten last night, he was hours past the point when vomiting would do him any good. Hyde would never be angry enough with Jackman to forget his dependence on him, so he felt relatively safe from poison. However...

He had to open the box. Jackman could no more have _not_ opened it than he could have willed Hyde away into nothingness. He did it slowly, as if that would soften whatever he found inside.

When he could see it, he backed away so fast he tripped, sprawling against the refrigerator. 

There was a human hand, unmistakably a human hand, in the box. It was instantly recognizable, even discolored as it was and smothered in what appeared to be brown sauce. 

Jackman told himself that Hyde was simply scaring him. Firmly, he told himself that Hyde wouldn't have the patience or the talent for...

There were, of course, ways to be certain.

Jackman did not want to know.

That afternoon, he began researching. He needed someone to help him. To help them both, but truly... he needed help.

He left a note in return that night, as he'd run out of time to buy a new tape player. In his neat, precise script, it read:

_Hyde, ___

_I'm bringing in a girl to help us. Do not harm her._

_Tomorrow night._

_I will, of course, replace the cassette recorder._

_\- Dr. Jackman_

He told himself that Hyde would read it. And continued to fight the urge to find a better place for the hand than in the dumpster. 

One thing Jackman had learned in the past few years. 

No one ever looks through the rubbish. 

 


End file.
